


Apple Turnovers

by LivingEmbodiment



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cried while I wrote this (Good Omens), Fluff, How do you describe angelic pregnancy?, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mpreg, Post-Apocalypse, Pregnancy, Southern Cabin (Good Omens), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 15:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingEmbodiment/pseuds/LivingEmbodiment
Summary: An Except from The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, witch(Continued)105: T shalt beest on a cold night at which tyme an angel doth feel love, a issue shalt beest madeth aware of both above eft bellow. Gaze the time Crowley for hes apetit groweth wode with foul eft apple turnovers.





	Apple Turnovers

**Author's Note:**

> I have never had enough courage to post any of my writing officially, but I was so proud of this one I just had to share it! Enjoy in all of its glory!

Life after the ‘Little Apocalypse that Couldn’t,’ as Aziraphale and Crowley liked to jokingly call it, could not be any more lovely. Not much has changed in three years since we have last checked in, there have been growth, marriages, and not a single word from either side. The Them still caused chaos through the town, but being in Upper Secondary School, they now moved from bikes to Adam’s beat-up car. Just a few months, Anantham and Newton married almost a year ago and just last week the couple they announced that they were expecting a bundle of joy to come late summer. However, the most significant change had to their move from the bustling Soho to the quiet, sleepy town of Tadfield. It was a shame to close the bookstore but after careful moving of the precious books and securing a little cottage attached to a small store, A.Z. Fell Books and Co. was officially reopened with the updated name.

Suprizingly enough, it had been Crowley’s idea to move to Tadfield, despite that once just the idea of moving out into the country was one that made the demon wish to tear old every fiber in his mortal form one by one. It just seemed right at that time to do so seeing that things had finally begun to calm down for the two. He would seem to miss all the discord that a demon was ripe to cause, such as taken down cellphone towers or halting traffic, but there was still plenty fun in a little village. Crowley was already planning his next fun for their neighbor and their yappy dog that seemed to be more of a rat than canine. Now, they were the couple that owned the strange bookstore of books that never seemed to be sold.

It did not take the two long before they fell into a routine. Cozy and domestic as it was. The angel always had a nice warm cup of cocoa on cold nights. Cuddled up under the covers, Crowley in his cold-bloodedness wrapped around the plump form. His book resting entirely on his stomach while he read. All was calm despite how things have been different Aziraphale has felt over the past couple of weeks. The angels never felt nauseous before, and sometimes before bed, he would rush to the toilet and expel the rest of the dinner from his form. This was not the only problem plaguing him. He felt fatigued no matter how much he slept at night, his human form always felt sore and ache after doing anything for too long, his mood shifted from happy to upset at the turn of a book, and he was positively more hungry causing his midsection has become a little bit plumper. All of this illness was also concerning Crowley. Angels never got sick, besides the occasional one catching a plague during the middle ages. This was no plague, but it did plague Crowley’s mind in trying to devise what was wrong with him.

The couple was just cuddling in bed, the angel reading while the demon whispered sweet nothings to him. It went like this every night until the angel fell asleep, or more likey pushed the demon off of him so he could rest. Aziraphale put down his book all of a sudden, surprising Crowley. “Do you feel that, darling? It’s… love… but more of it...:” He thought he felt something profound from within. That feeling of love that he had for Crowley, but more, and maybe it was just his imagination, but he swore that he felt a fluttering of a kind. Something was not right, it felt like the start of something new.

“What are you talking about angel? I do not feel anything,” Crowley perceived scanning around the room and outside for any force that could be that cause of the strange, new feeling. With nothing, he went back to his usual position with a stifled yawn “Except for the usual, you know.”

For those that have not studied intently over the phycology of angelic happiness it is similar to human happiness in the aspect of how it comes about. Joy, pride, accomplishments, etc. However, the thing that is so different is how that feeling of love is portrayed. Take for example the Almighty Archangel Gabriel. For him, love feels like the shock you get when you touch a brass doorknob in the winter with your softest socks on, or in short static electric. For Aziraphale, he felt warmth all over his body, similar to when a lazy cat basks in a stream of light in your living room.

Without a moment’s notice there was another fluttering and feeling of warmth all over his moral form. “There it is again! My goodness I do not know how you can not feel it Crowley. It is quite strong.” The angel scanned around trying to see if any lovers, or any one in that matter was out at such a late time at night in the snow no less, but at least everyone in the sleepy town was cuddled up in their beds.

“Quite peculiar, ah, well, I’ll investigate in the morning. No use leaving the comfort of the bed.”  
With a swift movement, Crowley put down the dusty book despite the angel’s disproven of being taken out of his reading for the third time that night. “Crow-“

“Are you saying it’s not just us?”

“Well, yes and ah, no. It’s complicated.” The angel sighed figuring that he was too tired to deal with this mess currently. Bright and early tomorrow morning he would sit down at his study with ritual cup of cocoa and dive into his ailment. With a soft kiss, he snuggled under the covers and turned off the lights with a gentle wave of his hand. The moonlight and fireplace being the only source of light in the bedroom.

The angel always seemed to push Crowley’s worrying buttons in just the right way. While Aziraphale was just able to shrug off the strange incidents, the demon kept slithering around in his mind. Constricting his poor tired mind of ideas while the angel slept besides him. Sleep was useless at this point, so he sat up gently and headed downstairs towards the living room to catch any late-night reruns of Gilmore Girls or some other mindless show to keep his mind off of his problems.

That was when he looked into the bookstore, as if something was calling him into there. Crowley might not have been much of a reader, but it was damn well known that he could find information for any person with just a bit of dedication.

Over the next hours, Crowley made Aziraphale’s back room desk into his home. Medical journals, human biology books his helpful diagrams of the human body for reference, religious theses concerning angels, demons, and ever Nephilims which seemed to slip its way into it more and more. Most important of all, with the help of leather gloves, a bible.

“Come on, bloody hell there must be something in one of these god forsaking books!” He was getting furious and his eyes were starting to hurt from all the small words and prints. Maybe it was no use and the problem would be resolved on its own, but that was when opening an ancient, dusty book, a small slip of paper floated out and onto Crowley’s lap. The paper looked and felt almost older than the book and was written in a peculiar way that was all but to familiar way from a witch that lived long ago.

It read in bold text the following:

**105: T shalt beest on a cold night at which tyme an angel doth feel love, a issue shalt beest madeth aware of both above eft bellow. Gaze the time Crowley for hes apetit groweth wode with foul eft apple turnovers. [1]**

After digging deep into the catacombs of his mind for the translation, Crowley’s face and skin grew as white as Aziraphale’s hair in the sunlight. “Shit… shit… shit. SHIT!” He mumbled violently pulling out a few more books to try and disprove the changes of his angels. If he knew anything about angels and demons is that they are both sexless, yes they can have sex but it was not like human sex so how could something like this be poss-  
“Crowley. What are you doing up so early? It is three ten in the morning.”

There in the doorway, downed in his silky sleeping clothes, Aziraphale sleepily rubbing his eyes trying to understand how what was possibly going on. He had woken up with the profanities from downstairs and when he discovered the cold spot where the demon once rested. Swaying over to the desk, Crowley could not look up to him.

“What is going on?” Instead of replying, he just handed the angel the card. The air grew heavy with the realization sinking in. Reading and rereading hoping that if he just kept rereading then it would change or maybe he would read something different. The text never changed. The whole world seemed to be sinking in on the two. There was no questioning of the authenticity of the prophecy. Agnus was never wrong.

“No. T-this can’t be. Angels we can not- We’re sexless!” Aziraphale looked over to Crowley who was still looking down at a book that the angel recognized as a rare copy of 1913’s Benjamin J. Owen M.D.’s The British Expecting or A Woman's Only Guide to Pregnancy: Including Instructions for Safe Birthing and The Principal Diseases Of Children. Crowley was still trying to let the horrifying idea of it all sink in. He had done an alright job in the raising of Warlock, but this was nothing like a simple nanny job. Everything that he had worked so hard for, a peaceful life in a southern country where they could live without fear of either side. This was definitely going to catch their attention.

Looking across the room, there was a mirror which the angel used to check the store when he was studding or working in the backroom. There he was looking back at him, only now Aziraphale noticed something that would be so obvious to others. Shakily his hands moved down to his plumper stomach. It felt soft, but there was a firmness too. Another little flutter proceeded to make the angel shiver even more, throat growing tighter and voice wavering. Everything finally made sense.

“I-I do be-believe that I’m expecting C-Crowley.”

More silence was creeping in causing tension to grow tighter and colder between them. The only thing on the demon’s mind was how that love Aziraphale must have felt was the child. The child’s love that came from his voice. This child had never seen him, and will not see him for roughly another five months if Crowly’s math was correct, already loved him. Something about that made his heart ache.

  
“Crowley, please say something.” The silence was eating in Aziraphale’s chest. “Crowley, please say something.” He remembered watching Nanny Ashtoreth walk back and forth through the garden in efforts to calm a crying Warlock. Never once would he raise his voice. Just hum a demonic lullaby and rub his back. Aziraphale had no fears when it came to Cowley becoming a partnet. Rather, it was how he would react.  
The angel’s hands were still cupped around the growing bump and his thumbs began to fiddle nervously. In a natural way, the feeling of his stomach seemed to calmed him. He could not explain why, but it just did.

“I-I understand my dear boy… If y-you wish to leave at this time. I’ll be just… tickety.”

Oh Aziraphale, sweet Aziraphale broke the tension with that small smile to hide his breaking heart. Crowley lifted up his head and felt as if a steamroller of shame rolled over his form. Crushing him with the angel’s fingers grazing where their child was growing. He could never leave. How could he even think about him leaving? Aziraphale his love, his partner, just his. No matter how much demons were biologically programmed to despise children, this was a part of him now.

Sinking to his knees, Crowley fell out of the chair and in front of Aziraphale to the angel’s shock. His hands went to cup the others despite everything that told him to take the hands away as just him touching was influencing the baby to evil. The demon looked up into Aziraphale’s blue eyes with the intensity of the fires of Hell, “Don’t even finish. I. Will. NEVER leave you. We survived an apocalypse, we can survive a weak wiggling human.”

  
Fear was put to the side in this one moment. How they were going to support the child, what will it turn out to be, everything that had to do with the future was forgotten. The demon’s touch and passion for the child did make Aziraphale sad smile shifted into one of soft pride. He knew that he was a nice person deep down. He would never leave them, ever and the angel was lucky to have someone like Crowley in his immoral life.

  
Aziraphale’s plump hands moved to Crowley’s firery hair and began to soothe his anguishing pain. “A child can be just as head spinning as an apocalypse, just without all the death and despair… and don’t call the tyke weak… they are half demon after all.”

  
That did make Crowley chuckle a bit at his ever so lightly cocky angel that hummed softly at his own joke. He pressed his forehead into the bump more and closed his eyes. Despite the fire within him now screaming at him to push the angel away and report with something sarcastic and rude. You could not blame DNA after all. He breathed as little as he could, still a bit afraid of hurting the child. Running his thumb over the bump, Crowley felt a little rush run through his body. Eyes starting to sting with tears billowing over. Maybe this was that love from the child he could feel? It was a nice feeling.

  
Aziraphale wiped his own tear, about to tell Crowley that the child seems to like him when the demon stood up and held him in a tight embrace. Digging his head into the angel’s shoulder and mumbling a soft little ‘Thank you.’

  
They did not know how long they were held in the embrace in the dark bookstore. Crowley could feel the swell of Aziraphale’s stomach. A reminder of the new life that they were creating. How it grew a little bit with each day made Crowley fill up with pride. In a few months, they would have a baby. A real flesh and blood being that is theirs. This truly was a miracle of their own and forever would be.  
They stayed frozen in their timely embrace until the sun began to rise over the waking town. The sunlight sparkling in the snow shone into the bookstore made Aziraphale look like he was practically glowing, more so than he normally does. With a soft kiss on Crowley’s cheek, he smiled at him equally if not more soft. Taking the demon’s hand in his own, Aziraphale looked at how the light bounced off their simple silver. A squeeze of the hand, they began to make their way into the kitchen.

“Shall I tempt you to a spot of breakfast? I’m suddenly having a craving for some apple turnovers.”

**Author's Note:**

> [1] For those that find themselves unable to read Middle English this translates into modern terms as, "On a cold night an angel will feel new love, a child will be discovered made with both Heaven and Hell. Watch him Crowley as he is with child and make sure he lays off the apple turnovers."


End file.
